


We Have It All

by SaltyServal



Series: SakuAtsu Angst Week 2021 [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Angst and Feels, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inunaki is comic relief ur welcome, M/M, Miya Atsumu Needs a Hug, SakuAtsu Angst Week 2021, Sort Of, non-graphic depiction of illness, sad sakusa kiyoomi, this one ALSO killed the beta chat, this week is just an excuse to hurt skts in any way i cant think of tbh, why is that not a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 07:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30018066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltyServal/pseuds/SaltyServal
Summary: “Y’know Omi, I think I’m falling more in—“ Atsumu started, casting a lopsided smile down at Kiyoomi. He gasped and stood up sharply, knocking a water glass off of the table. It hit the ground with a crack, the shards seeping through the loose wooden plates. Water dripped down the table, pooling at his feet. Atsumu stumbled back, his expression shocked.“Don’t say it!” Kiyoomi shouted, frenzied into panic mode. “You can never say those words to me, remember?”ORKiyoomi's soul was cursed centuries ago; anyone who uttered the words "I love you" to him would die seven days later. Kiyoomi did his best to avoid love lifetime after lifetime, but Atsumu came crashing into his life.This could only end in tragedy.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: SakuAtsu Angst Week 2021 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2205345
Comments: 9
Kudos: 56
Collections: SakuAtsuAngstWeek





	We Have It All

**Author's Note:**

> Day three: reincarnation+ maybe tomorrow, maybe next lifetime

Sakusa Kiyoomi was ten when it happened. 

His mother said that she loved him before she shut the light off in his room. A week later, she was killed in a car accident. He hadn’t understood why, not until the first nightmare. The first memory from what he now knew as past life. He heard someone say that they loved him… and witnessed their death. 

The dreams kept coming. 

_ “You’ll never fall in love, and those who dare to do so will suffer for seven sunrises before journeying to the afterlife.”  _ The voice echoed in his head, over and over again. 

His dad died three weeks after his mother, after saying “I love you, kiddo.” Kiyoomi didn’t know what he was doing wrong. He didn’t believe in supernatural powers, but dream after nightmare occurred, and every time the three words were said, the person died seven days later. 

Maybe Kiyoomi was crazy. It would be easier to believe he was. That his dreams meant nothing, that he was just trying to cope with the grief. 

He finally determined that there was something more when one of his classmates in sixth grade who randomly said that she loved him dropped dead a week afterward. 

It was scaring him.

Kiyoomi decided to draw in on himself. He didn’t make friends, he didn’t speak unless spoken to, and he avoided most contact at all costs. His foster parents noticed his sudden change, and they immediately brought him in to see someone.

When the therapist asked what was wrong and why he didn’t want to to make friends, he lied. Kiyoomi lied to the best of his ability, because no one would understand. 

_ “I don’t like people. I don’t like being around them.”  _

_ “Why?” _

_ “It feels dirty.”  _ The therapist proceeded to ask him more questions while scribbling notes onto the paper. Kiyoomi watched without saying a word. The therapist went to his foster parents, discussing his “condition” quietly.

Germaphobia is what they said. 

Kiyoomi’s diagnosis of mysophobia was less of a curse when he thought about it. It kept him from getting close to others. It kept them from getting hurt. 

The only person he confided in about the curse with his cousin. Motoya Komori was the same age as him, attending the same school and looking at the same high school. He clung onto Kiyoomi like a dog, protective and loyal. As much as he wanted to be left alone, he supposed the friendship was nice.

And he wasn’t letting Komori die. At first, he didn’t believe him. But then Kiyoomi explained all the random deaths, the casualties that came a week after the ill-fated words.

Komori was still skeptical, but he respected his wishes. Kiyoomi could breathe a little easier, knowing that his cousin would respect his wishes. 

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t miserable. He never attended family gatherings, always afraid one relative would say “I love you.” And Kiyoomi would have to live with knowing that would be the last time they said it to him, the last gathering they attended, because the clock would start ticking. 

Komori covered for him, saying he was sick or training. His germaphobia would have been more than enough to cover it up, but he guessed the extra layer was nice. 

Kiyoomi kept everyone at an arm’s length. They would be safer away from him, out of his life. No one would get hurt, and he wouldn’t have to live with the burden of blame. 

He only had one thing in his life that truly brought him joy: volleyball.

Everyone was shocked when he showed up to practice in middle school. The germaphobic kid, wanting to play a sport with a bouncy, sweat-covered ball. But Kiyoomi was drawn to it as a moth was to a flame. 

And so Kiyoomi threw himself into volleyball. It was the only thing he could do. He could focus on the sport, rather than wallow in his self-pity. His wrists were double jointed, giving him an almost-unfair advantage. He had powerful spikes, and he knew it.

Komori joined as well. He was a libero, and a damn good one. He wasn’t afraid to dive for the ball, even if it resulted in floor burns or other injuries. He could read people and their movements, saving the ball when it seemed certain they would lose. 

Kiyoomi avoided team bonding and other activities. He came to practice, and nothing more. He was lonely, but he would survive. 

High school dragged on. He was accepted to Itachiyama, which had one of the top volleyball teams in the country. He became the ace of the school in his second year. 

And with that newfound status, the confessions. 

Kiyoomi rejected every single one, no matter his opinion on the person. He walked away before he heard protests, because he never knew what words would be said. It was fine. There were more important things than love, he thought. 

Kiyoomi thought he could survive without love. He thought he didn’t need it to be happy, to be whole.

He was wrong. 

“Are you happy, Kiyoomi?” Komori had asked one day. His answer was instant. He didn’t even need to think twice about the word that was about to pass from his lips. 

“No.”

-

_ It was the dream again. Kiyoomi blinked open his eyes as he stood on a cliff side overlooking a valley. The rye stalks were a golden-brown, the grasses an olive green. A river ran through the center of the meadow, a vibrant blue color that shimmering in the evening sun. The sky was orange, streaked with pinks and purples of the sunset.  _

_ It would be beautiful if he weren’t chained to the ground. Someone was facing him, someone who radiated power. Kiyoomi knew what would happen by now, but that didn’t change him from flinching.  _

_ “You have angered the sun god, boy.” The deity sneered, his brilliant orange eyes flaring with anger. Kiyoomi cowered under the glare, shielding himself with his arms. “You dared court my wife, and now you will suffer because of it.” _

_ “My lord, please have mercy.” He begged, falling to his knees, whimpering. The god just glared harder, rising up to his full height.  _

_ “There is no mercy for mortals like you. You need to be taught a lesson, made an example of.” The deity said, his face contorted into a snarl. Kiyoomi’s throat was dry. He bowed his head, ready to accept death. The sun god tilted his head, thinking. Every passing second caused his anxiety to rise. He could feel tears pricking the corner of his eyes.  _

_ “You will not die today.” He said finally. Kiyoomi let out a breath of relief. _

_ “Thank you, my lord, thou is merciful--”  _

_ “But you will die eventually.” The god cut him off, waving a hand. “You will live hundreds of lives, and yet you will never find company. You’ll never fall in love, and those who dare to do so will suffer for seven sunrises before journeying to the afterlife.” The sun god said, his voice echoing across the chasms, a grin spreading across his face. Kiyoomi bit his lip, about to say more-- _

Kiyoomi awoke with a gasp, breathing heavily. He rubbed his eyes, wiping sweat off of his brow. He let out a wail of frustration, slamming his fist against the bed. He damned his past self, sharp tears stinging his eyes. 

“Fuck.” He swore. Kiyoomi rolled over onto his side, glaring at his clock. He still had two hours until practice. Meian would chide him if he showed up too early for working too hard or some shit.

Not like he had anything else in his life to do. 

Kiyoomi slid out of his bed, stretching with a sigh. He shuffled to his kitchen, glancing at his phone. 

**Atsumu:** OMIIIII

**Atsumu:** OMIIIIIIIIIIIIII GUESS WHATT

**Atsumu:** OMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**Atsumu:** WHY ARE YOU IGNORING MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

**Kiyoomi:** Jesus christ it was five in the morning what do you want

**Atsumu:** OMIIIIIIIIII <3 <3

**Kiyoomi:** Don’t use heart emojis. What 

**Atsumu:** so mean

**Atsumu:** anyway I have a surprise for you after practice today meet me outside the gym at six okay?

**Kiyoomi:** … fine

**Atsumu:** YAAAAY CANT WAIT >:DD

Kiyoomi laughed to himself as he shut his phone off. He had met Miya Atsumu years ago at a youth volleyball training camp. And the blonde clung on to him, harassing him, texting him, and showing up randomly unannounced at his house. Kiyoomi enjoyed it. He liked his company. 

If he were anyone else, he would have asked him out by now. If Kiyoomi was free of this damned curse, he would have courted him and proposed. But he couldn’t do that to Atsumu. 

_ Right?  _

God, he wanted to love him. 

Kiyoomi sighed as he got ready for the day. Same thing, same lonely day. He headed to practice, he played volleyball and he went home.

Today was different. 

It was an all-day practice. Kiyoomi knew he would be exhausted by the end of it. Spike after spike. Hit after hit. Drill after drill. Atsumu barely looked at him too, making him anxious.  _ Why does he want to meet up if he won’t even talk to me?  _ He pushed it down. He had to focus. 

“Oh god, I’m so sore.” Koutarou Bokuto groaned as he stretched after the practice ended. Kiyoomi nodded in agreement, flexing his wrists. They twinged painfully with every movement. 

“Yeah.” He muttered. 

“Hey… where’s Tsum-Tsum?” Bokuto asked suddenly. Kiyoomi narrowed his eyes as he scanned the locker room. The setter was noticeably absent, his vibrant presence gone. He glanced at the clock. It was 6:50. God, they’d been practicing since 11:00. Kiyoomi internally groaned. 

“I think he wanted to meet me behind the gym.” Kiyoomi said through a yawn as he tugged his mask on. 

“Oho?” Bokuto wiggled his eyebrows. “Have fun.”

“Why— no—“ Kiyoomi sputtered, his face turning red. “That’s—“ 

“Go get ‘em, champ.” Bokuto clapped his shoulder and nudged him out of the room. Kiyoomi sighed, but pulled his jacket on.

He searched the outside of the gym, searching for one blonde setter. He was about to give up when he saw a bag laid around the corner. He followed it slowly. 

“Atsumu?” Kiyoomi narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing?” Atsumu was holding a rose, leaning against the gym wall. 

“Yer late.” He snickered. “I thought you were punctual.”

“Took me a while to find you, standing at the back of the gym.” Kiyoomi said wryly. 

“Mm, well I have a question for ya.” Atsumu glazed over it. He stepped closer, holding out the rose. Kiyoomi glanced at it, then back at Atsumu’s face. His expression was smug as he knelt down slightly. 

“Yes?” Kiyoomi said, sweat trickling down his neck. 

“I’ve got a confession ta make.” Atsumu said slowly. “I’ve been harboring a crush on ya for a while now. And-and I would be honored if ya would let me date ya.” Kiyoomi’s breath was snatched from his throat as he stared at Atsumu. 

The gods were cruel, he decided. His soul was still being punished, and this was part of it. Atsumu asking him out, it was a test, it had to be. The rose wavered slightly in the breeze. 

“Go out with me, Omi.” Atsumu said with a grin. “You know you want to.” 

This was dangerous. This was cruel. This was where Kiyoomi turned him down, because Atsumu would die if they went further. He couldn’t do this to Atsumu, he couldn’t put him in danger for his feelings. 

But Kiyoomi was selfish. His resolve broke, all the memories, the secret crush he harbored, it all came rushing back. And Kiyoomi wanted this, he wanted  _ him.  _

“Pick me up on Saturday at eleven.” He said, smiling beneath his mask. Atsumu’s smile grew broader, throwing his arms around Kiyoomi. He stiffened slightly, but returned the hug. 

Kiyoomi was in love, and he would figure out how to beat the curse. 

-

Kiyoomi ended up taking Atsumu to a café. It was generic, he knew, but he figured it would be nice. He directed Atsumu to the café he had in mind.

“Coffee date, huh? Never took ya for someone who liked caffeine.” Atsumu said with a small laugh. 

“I can’t live without it.” Kiyoomi declared. Atsumu laughed again, louder than before. A blush was already spreading across his face and he ducked his head. 

“Caffeine addict.” Atsumu teased. 

“Guilty as charged.” Kiyoomi tugged his mask sheepishly. He gestured to one of the tables. “Here we are.” 

“Thank you, Omi-Omi.” Atsumu cooed, plopping down in the chair. Kiyoomi gingerly removed his mask and sat across from him. 

“So, how about the game last week…” The two descended into small talk, ordering when the waiter came to take their order. The conversation hardly lulled; there was too much to say.

Kiyoomi was pleasantly shocked by that. Atsumu was talkative, and the conversation was easy to come by. He loved his voice, loved hearing him.

His old crush surged. Playing on the same team reminded him daily how hard he fell in the beginning, but now... just talking to him solidified the fact.

The date came to an end all too soon. Atsumu had to meet up with brother to help him with his restaurant. Kiyoomi secretly wished he could stay with him. Wished Atsumu would keep walking with him, and they could keep talking.

But it was probably best if they parted. Kiyoomi’s heart was torn, being tugged in two directions. He wanted to stay with Atsumu, wanted  _ Atsumu,  _ but he couldn’t. It could kill him.

_ We can be careful. _

_ It won’t work. _

_ I can tell him the story. _

_ He won’t believe you.  _

“Thank you for the date.” Atsumu said, breaking his train of thought, his hands tucked into his pockets. A small blush bloomed across his face. “I had fun.” 

“Me too.” 

“So… wanna do this again?” Atsumu said slowly, grinning. Kiyoomi gulped, his breath catching in his throat.  _ He could say the words if he wasn’t careful.  _ Kiyoomi’s mouth was dry. 

He knew what he had to do.

“Yeah. Same time, next week.” Kiyoomi agreed, smiling. His answer shocked himself, and it took all of willpower not to flinch. 

_ Oh god. He was in this deep.  _

“Great! See ya then Omi!” Atsumu said, waving as he jogged off. 

Kiyoomi watched him go, his eyes flickering. He sighed. He cursed his traitorous heart, wishing he wasn’t in love, wishing he hadn’t fallen so hard for the blonde.

Deep down, he knew this could only end in tragedy. But Kiyoomi was selfish, and he wanted this. 

“Bye, Atsumu. See you next week.”

-

“Miya is up to serve…” The announcer's voice drifted through the stadium, as eager fans of the MSBY Jackals and EJP Raijin watched the face-off of the first game of the season. Kiyoomi resisted the urge to glance back at his boyfriend.  _ The person he had been successfully dating for five and a half months _ . He could hear the crowd quiet as Atsumu lifted his fist, silencing the rest of the stadium. Across the net, Suna rolled his eyes.

“Never lost his flair for dramatics.” He whispered with a small shake of his head. Kiyoomi smirked at the middle blocker, nodding once. 

The sudden squeak of shoes signaled that Atsumu tossed the ball up. A  _ pop  _ sounded through the stadium, and the game began. 

Kiyoomi lost track of how many spikes he hit. The teams were well matched in his opinion. Komori grinned smugly at him from the other side as he saved one of his spikes. Kiyoomi gritted his teeth and nodded to Atsumu. The setter’s eyes were gleaming as he prepared for the next hit. 

Kiyoomi knew what he wanted to do. He sighed, but prepared to approach the net. As he leapt, Atsumu pushed the ball the other direction, to Hinata’s waiting arms. It bounced in, the whistle being blown in the Jackal’s favor. 

“I hate being the decoy.” Kiyoomi mumbled. 

“I was the decoy for most of high school!” Hinata piped up. “It’s not that bad, Sakusa-San!”

Atsumu just laughed, patting his shoulder. “There, there Omi. We all hafta make sacrifices sometimes for the good of the order.”

Kiyoomi whacked his hand, rolling his eyes. “Sure.” Atsumu opened his mouth to reply, only to be cut off by the whistle. He took his place back at the net as Bokuto served.

The game dragged on. Kiyoomi wanted to pass out by the end of it. His legs were numb when the Jackals reached match point in the third set. It was do or die; each team managing to steal one set from the other, the score so close the officials were having a riot trying to keep it. He mentally sighed, knowing that the newscasters would want extra interviews after such a close game.

Atsumu glanced over at him, his eyes flashing. He nodded once. Kiyoomi pursed his lips, but nodded back.  _ This better work.  _ The other team would be suspecting that Atsumu would set to him. It was a gamble, but could pay off.

The serve went up and was received by Motoya again. Kiyoomi tensed. The point would depend on Inunaki receiving it. The ball was spiked back over. Kiyoomi watched their libero dive for it, hitting it back up. He began his approach, running up as Atsumu pressed the ball upward with his fingers—

Kiyoomi was already in place, hitting downward as it touched his fingers. It pricked the edges of the blocker’s fingers. It bounced down, hitting the gym floor. Kiyoomi’s knees shook as he glanced over the official. 

The flag was raised and the whistle blown. He let out a breath of relief. The match was theirs. 

“Hell yes, Omi!” Atsumu shouted, running over and throwing himself into his arms. Kiyoomi yelped and caught him, holding him in a bridal style-carry. The setter beamed at him.

“Just-just two things.” Kiyoomi gasped out, his legs starting to buckle. “I have n-no energy left  _ and  _ the camera-cameras are seeing this.” 

“Let them look.” Atsumu said, kissing his cheek. “Let the world know how much I lo—“ Kiyoomi yelped and dropped him, his legs giving out. 

He ended up falling on top of Atsumu, breathing heavily. Panic seized him.  _ He almost said the words.  _ He glanced down at the setter, whose face was bright red. His hair was spread out across the gym floor like a golden halo. His eyes were still shining, the brown orbs gleaming slightly in the harsh lighting. 

“Damn, didn’t know sayin’ I love—“ Kiyoomi cut him off by kissing him, grasping his head gently and pulling him up to him. Atsumu’s eyes were wide with shock, but he didn’t pull away. 

“Don’t say that.” He whispered when he pulled away. Atsumu’s face fell. 

“But—“

“I’ll explain later, okay?” He said desperately. “Just trust you. I promise that I- I feel the same way, you just _ can’t say it to me.”  _ Atsumu looked confused, but he nodded. 

“Okay.” He murmured. “But ya better have a good explanation.” Kiyoomi smiled, kissing him again.

“You probably won’t believe me-“

“OH MY GOD!” Inunaki’s loud yell broke their trance. Kiyoomi whipped his head over to state at the libero, whose face was a mixture of appalled and amused. “THEY’RE GOING TO FUCK ON LIVE TV!” 

_ “INUNAKI!”  _ Meian roared. Bokuto doubled over laughing, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head. Hinata was laughing too, the ginger cackling madly. The libero smirked as Kiyoomi scrambled to his feet, pulling Atsumu up. The setter didn’t back away; instead, he grabbed Kiyoomi’s arm and rested his head on his shoulder.

“Wait, are you two together?” Hinata asked once he had recovered. Kiyoomi exchanged a glance with Kiyoomi. 

“Yeah.” Kiyoomi said, kissing his forehead. Atsumu grinned, nodding. “Yeah we are.” The gym went so quiet he could hear a pin drop. 

“So…” Suna was the first to speak. He nodded to them from the other side of the net. “I would suggest running.” 

“Why?” Atsumu asked, twisting his head to look at the rival middle blocker.

“Osamu is here.” Kiyoomi gulped, glancing toward the stands. Atsumu had warned him about his brother’s  _ protective  _ nature. 

_ “ATSUMU!”  _ An angry shout could be heard from the stand. “I AM GOING TA KILL YA!” 

“FUC- SCREW OFF, YA SCRUB!” Atsumu yelled back, catching himself before he cursed on television again. Kiyoomi laughed nervously. 

“Oh, look at that, we have post-game interviews to get to. Atsumu, are you coming?” He said pointedly. The setter nodded, not taking his eyes off of the stands. “Great, let’s go.” 

He pulled Atsumu to the locker rooms, ignoring the shell-shocked gym. 

“Are you going to explain yourself now?” The setter demanded instantly. Kiyoomi sighed. 

“I’ll tell you when I drop you off at your apartment, okay?” He said. Atsumu pursed his lips but nodded. 

“Fine.” He squeezed his hand one more time and turned back to the gym, likely to get into a shouting match with his brother. Kiyoomi sighed again, but followed him back out.

The interviews themselves were long as he predicted— made even longer by the accidental outing of their relationship. Kiyoomi was half-asleep by the time they finally released them. Atsumu pulled him to the car, not bothering to stick around for post-game pleasantries. 

He pulled open the passenger seat and turned to Kiyoomi immediately. He took a deep breath as he pulled the seatbelt across his body. He knew this day was coming. He knew he would eventually have to tell Atsumu the truth.

He didn’t think he would even be mad if he left him. 

“Okay, Omi.” Atsumu said, reclining back in the passenger seat. “Ya’ve got some explainin’ ta do.” Kiyoomi ran a hand through his hair. 

“Alright. It’s… it’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.” 

-

“So… if someone says “I love you” to ya, the person will die?” Atsumu was staring at him, his expression unreadable. Kiyoomi nodded, his grip iron on the steering wheel. His eyes flitted back to the road. 

“Yeah.” He said simply. 

“Are ya sure?” Atsumu asked.

“Yes.” Kiyoomi responded, his throat tight. “Everyone who ever said it to me died. My mom, my dad, even random people I hardly knew. And… god, I was so scared to date you. I wanted to for years, I just— I don’t want to lose you because of this… this  _ curse—“  _

“Hey, it’s okay.” Atsumu’s voice was gentle. “Ya aren’t gonna lose me.”

“But what if you say the words, and then you—“ 

“I just won’t say them.” Atsumu said firmly. I can show my affection in other ways, y’know. Hugs. Candy. More hugs.” Kiyoomi shook his head, a trembling laugh escaping him. 

“You’re taking this better than I thought you would.” He admitted. 

“I can’t say I believe ya… but I will respect yer wishes.” Atsumu began slowly. “Something clearly makes ya anxious, so I won’t say the words. But ya couldn’t get rid of me if ya tried.” Kiyoomi nodded. He hadn’t expected Atsumu to believe his story; but at least he managed to avoid any crises, at least for now. 

“I won’t say them, okay?” Atsumu reiterated, resting one hand on top of Kiyoomi’s. “It’ll be okay. I’m not gonna leave ya. I am in— I care about ya too much ta lose ya.” Kiyoomi dipped his head, steadying his breathing. 

“I care about you too.” Kiyoomi murmured. “I won’t let you go.” 

“Good.” Atsumu kissed his cheek. He sat in numbing silence, everything fading out. Kiyoomi could hear his pulse drumming against his ears. Atsumu had already moved in from the topic. 

_ The memories were back. He could see the lovers in his past lives, all of them promising the same thing that Atsumu did. All of them failed in the end.  _

_ Kiyoomi was always left grieving in the end.  _

He shook it off. He would make this work, he  _ had to make this work.  _ Atsumu was chattering aimlessly beside him, the same stupid grin that Kiyoomi had fallen in love with on his face. 

“I have a question for you.” Kiyoomi said suddenly. He had been contemplating this for a month now; he figured since  _ that _ talk had gone well, it was time. 

“Yeah?” 

“Will you move in with me?” Kiyoomi murmured, his ears pink. “Since our relationship is public now, and we have the same job, and—“ 

“Of course, idiot. I was waiting for ya ta ask. We kinda live in the same building already.” Atsumu leaned over the center console and kissed him again. “It would make me very happy.”

-

Atsumu arrived at Kiyoomi’s door at ten in the morning that weekend. He was holding a box of his possessions. Kiyoomi stretched the door open wider. 

“Hey love.” He said, kissing his cheek as he walked in. Atsumu beamed at him, glancing around the apartment. “Is that all of your stuff?” 

“Yeah. Everything else was issued from the apartment.” Atsumu said as he set the box down on the small island in the kitchen. 

“Well, then this won’t be as hard as I thought it would be.” Kiyoomi said, shutting the door and walking over. He peered into the box. “What  _ did  _ you bring?”

“Just some pictures, books, old trinkets.” Atsumu said with a shrug. “Feel free ta look through it. If ya excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.” With that, the setter bolted in the direction of the restroom. Kiyoomi snickered, turning to the box. 

He pulled it open, reaching into it. He found himself staring at a picture of Atsumu and his twin brother. It was in front of the Onigiri Miya, on its opening day. Both were smiling broadly, and Kiyoomi thought Atsumu never looked more proud. 

“I remember that day.” Atsumu had reappeared behind Kiyoomi. He wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Kiyoomi patted his arm, tilting his head up and grinning at him. “‘Samu was so happy. Dumbass finally achieved his dream. I was so happy for him, and still am.”

“You both look so happy.” Kiyoomi observed. “I hope I can make you that happy.” Atsumu’s face turned a pale pink and he started sputtering, burying his face in Kiyoomi’s hair. 

“Yer so cheesy.” He said with a laugh. Kiyoomi reached up and fluffed his hair. 

“I have my moments.” He said loftily, causing his boyfriend to laugh harder. 

“Y’know Omi, I think I’m falling more in—“ Atsumu started, casting a lopsided smile down at Kiyoomi. He gasped and stood up sharply, knocking a water glass off of the table. It hit the ground with a crack, the shards seeping through the loose wooden plates. Water dripped down the table, pooling at his feet. Atsumu stumbled back, his expression shocked. 

“Don’t say it!” Kiyoomi shouted, frenzied into panic mode. “You can never say those words to me, remember?” 

Atsumu blinked at him, his eyes going wide. He glanced between the water and broken glass, then back at Kiyoomi. His gaze flickered with realization, and he shut his mouth. 

“R-right. Sorry.” He murmured. His face was pale, the blood having drained from it. Kiyoomi tried to take deep breaths, forcing his fear to subside.  _ It was okay. He didn’t say it.  _

Silence descended over the two, penetrated only by their heavy breathing. Atsumu’s eyes were distraught, sadness clear on his face. 

“Omi, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean ta—“ Kiyoomi shook his head, cutting him off. 

“Don’t apologize, Atsu. It’s not your fault.” He said quietly. “I’m the cursed one, remember?” Atsumu bit his lip and nodded. 

“I guess. But I still scared ya. I didn’t mean ta.” His voice was small, an ounce of fear coloring his tone. Kiyoomi walked over and drew him close. 

“It’s not your fault, Atsumu.” He repeated. “So don’t you dare blame yourself.” The blonde nodded. 

“Kita said there were gods.” He mumbled softly. “Maybe he was right.” Kiyoomi exhaled softly, rubbing his back.

“I wish he was wrong.” He murmured back. 

“Fuck, Omi, this is harder than I thought it would be.” Atsumu confessed. “Those words— I just—“

“Me too.” Kiyoomi cut him off gently. He didn’t think it would be hard to survive without love. He didn’t think that when he found love, it wouldn’t be so hard to hold on to it without fear.

“Are we gonna be able to make this work?” Atsumu asked. “Is everything gonna be okay?” Kiyoomi ran a hand through his hair, kissing the top of his forehead. 

“It’s gonna be okay.” Kiyoomi promised. Atsumu buried his face into his jacket, and the pair rocked back and forth. The setter’s pulse decreased and he shut his eyes.

He hoped he wasn’t lying. 

-

Weeks passed since the last incident. Atsumu was careful with his words, making sure not to say anything that could potentially lead to  _ “I love you.”  _ Life continued, and so did they. 

Volleyball, dinner, sleep. It was a nice routine, one Kiyoomi was enjoying. He loved having Atsumu with him at all times. He got to wake up to his smiling face each morning, and go to sleep holding him close each night. 

The world would collapse eventually, he supposed. It was only a matter of time before something happened. Before the world broke once more. 

Saturday brought nothing but storms. The rain was light at first, drizzling throughout the daily practice. By the time it had ended, it was pouring. He couldn’t even tell what time of day it was. Kiyoomi sprinted to the car, Atsumu in tow. He took his time, spreading his arms and letting the droplets hit him. Kiyoomi stared at him incredulously from the car seat. 

“Atsumu. Light of my life.” He began as the setter pulled the car door open. “Why did you take so long to get to the car in the middle of monsoon weather.” Atsumu laughed as he shook out his hair. 

“It’s not  _ that _ bad.” Kiyoomi glanced out the car window and the flooding streets, then back at Atsumu. 

“I—“ He started, his voice cracking with a slight snicker. “I have no words.” 

“City slicker.” Atsumu teased. “Don’t know how to handle a little rain.” 

“I can handle rain just fine.” Kiyoomi grumbled. “This—“ He gestured out the window. “—is not rain. It is a storm.” 

“It’s not that bad.” Atsumu repeated. “You should have seen the weather back in Kobe. You would have  _ died.”  _

“Good thing I’m from Tokyo.” Kiyoomi muttered, starting the car. “You’re showering first. You smell like a wet dog.” 

“Hey!” 

The drive back was filled with quiet chatter, mostly banter about the current weather at hand. Kiyoomi sprinted to the apartment entrance as soon as they got home. Atsumu once again took his time, looking oh-so smug about it too. 

He shook out his hair and jacket as they trekked up the stairs. Kiyoomi helped and jumped two steps up. Atsumu cracked a smile and passed him, holding his head high. He unlocked the apartment door, holding it for Kiyoomi. 

“So scared of a little water.” He teased. Kiyoomi huffed, rolling his eyes. Atsumu beelined for the bedroom, dropping his bag in the room. He was staring out the window, watching the rain fall with a small smile. Kiyoomi peered at him, tilting his head. 

“What is it with you and the rain?” He asked slowly. 

“Reminds me of home.” Atsumu said with a shrug. “We would get huge storms that rocked the bay, but the aftermath was always so pretty. Plus, the rain was much worse back in Hyogo. It’s nicer here.” Kiyoomi blinked at the drenched window, and then back at Atsumu.

“Sure.” He replied wryly. 

“Come dance with me.” Atsumu said suddenly. Kiyoomi blinked at him. 

“What?”

“Come dance with me on the deck.” Atsumu repeated, standing up from his seat and walking to the patio. The downpour was still occurring, the merciless thunder of rain beating against the glass door. Kiyoomi stood up and walked over, gently placing his hands on Atsumu’s shoulders.

“Atsumu, you know it’s still raining.” Kiyoomi said slowly. The setter nodded, smirking slightly. 

“Yep. What’s the problem with that. Are ya afraid of a little water?” Kiyoomi scowled at him. 

“No, but I would prefer to stay dry tonight.”

“Wimp.” Atsumu said with a chuckle as he flung open the patio door. He leapt outside into the downpour, laughing the entire time. Kiyoomi sighed, shaking his head. 

“Alright, I’m coming.” He gingerly stepped out of the door, slipping his shoes on as he did. Atsumu’s plantium blonde hair was already stuck to his forehead, the platinum locks dripping with rain. His eyes were still sparkling as he held out his hand to Kiyoomi. 

“May I have this dance?” 

The rain continued to fall, faster and faster. Kiyoomi wrinkled his nose, shaking out his hair in vain. Atsumu let out a loud laugh, his hand still outstretched. Kiyoomi took it, letting the setter pull him out onto the deck. 

“It’s really coming down tonight.” Kiyoomi observed. Atsumu nodded, completely unbothered by the weather. He laid his hand on his shoulders, still smiling. 

“Yep. Now dance with me.” He said, still smiling. 

“But we don’t have music.” Kiyoomi said half-heartedly. 

“Ya don’t need music, dumbass!” Atsumu guided Kiyoomi’s hands to his shoulder and waist. It felt rather like a waltz, a ballroom dance in a way. 

“Uh... how do you know how to dance then? Without the beat?” He asked. Atsumu smiled softly. 

“It’s not all that hard. Just imagine a tempo, and we just go. Or ya can sing if ya want.” He smirked. Kiyoomi shuddered. 

“Never again.” He vowed solemnly, reliving what had been dubbed “the karaoke incident.” Atsumu threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing between the buildings and joining the mixture of sounds from the rainstorm. Kiyoomi smiled.  _ He loved that laugh _ .

“Ya can guide us, then. I’ll follow yer lead.” He said. Kiyoomi nodded, straightening up slightly. In his head, he could hear a metronome, beating with the steady rainfall. He hesitantly took the first step, and Atsumu followed.

The rain swirled around them, some of the forming puddles dislodged by their dancing. The cold seemed to vanish as they danced, Kiyoomi completely enthralled with Atsumu. He looked at home in the storm, without stress or fear. 

Kiyoomi could hear the melody in the back of his head, each step in time with the rain. Atsumu beamed at him, his eyes sparkling.

“I love you, Omi.” 

Time froze. Kiyoomi’s hands stiffened on his shoulder and waist, shock resounding through his body. He inhaled sharply, his heart twisting. His stomach churned as bile rose up in his throat.  _ No _ .

The rain continued to pummel them as Kiyoomi stared at Atsumu. The setter’s eyes were still blissfully closed, his head resting on his chest. He was still swaying to their beat, unaware that he had stopped. 

“Atsu...” Kiyoomi’s throat felt dry. “No...” 

“What?” Atsumu’s eyes snapped open. He drew back slightly, staring at him with wide, worried eyes. “What’s wrong, Omi?” 

“Y-you just said it!” He gasped out, dropping his hands. “You...you can’t—no—“ He stammered, tripping over his words. His hand flew to his mouth as a sob bubbled up in his chest. Atsumu’s eyes widened. 

“Oh… yer… the I love you…” He trailed off, his face slightly pale. “I didn’t mean ta say it, it just slipped out.” Kiyoomi’s breath was coming in ragged gasps. He leaned against the side of the building, his mind spinning. 

_ Nonononono, this can’t happen, this can’t be happening, I will not lose him, no this is a mistake—  _ His thoughts ran in a circle, the false reassurances dragging him down. Atsumu said the words. He just signed his own death warrant.

His blood would be on Kiyoomi’s hands.

The thought sickened him. His stomach lurched, and he thought he might hurl. His mouth was dry, and he couldn’t  _ stop shaking.  _

“...baby, come back to me, please…” Atsumu’s voice was faraway, as if he was in another galaxy. Perhaps he was, perhaps it was another dimension where they would be safe.

Kiyoomi dropped to his knees, his lungs refusing to accept air. His fingers were numb, the sheer shock causing him to tremble. Black spots danced across his vision. He barely felt the chill of the rain on his forehead. It was the least of his worries.

Atsumu, dead. Atsumu, dying. It was all he could see, all he could imagine. Blood on his lips as his chest stopped moving and heart stopped beating. Kiyoomi would beg him to stay awake, but the sun god’s vengeance would have been claimed once again and Atsumu’s life would be snuffed out. 

Kiyoomi didn’t know when he started sobbing. Or screaming, for that matter. All he knew is Atsumu was telling him it would be okay, and that he had to be a little quieter. His touch was a comfort, the low voice his anchor. Slowly, the black in his vision receded. He gasped for air, clutching Atsumu’s arms tightly.

Kiyoomi forced himself to take a deep breath. He shut his eyes, the fog in his mind clearing. Atsumu was waiting patiently, his face ashen and unreadable. Kiyoomi’s tongue was heavy in his mouth. He wanted to say something,  _ anything,  _ but no words would come. Not the ones he wanted.

“Let’s go back inside.” Kiyoomi managed to whisper, his breathing uneven as the panic continued to grab him. “It’s getting late.” Atsumu nodded, his eyes hollow. Kiyoomi turned back to the apartment, tugging the door back open.

“Omi?” Atsumu asked as he followed him back into the bedroom. Kiyoomi turned to him, trying to keep his expression neutral. 

“Yeah...?” 

“Am I going to die?” Atsumu asked, his voice breaking slightly. “Is that what happens next?” 

Kiyoomi gazed at him, his throat bobbing. He wished he could say no. He wished he could promise him that it would be okay, that he would still be breathing next week. The memories from past lives were flooding his senses, faster and faster. The love, the pain, the death. 

Atsumu was still staring at him, his lower lip trembling slightly. Kiyoomi stepped closer to him, pulling him into a tight hug. 

“I don’t know.” He murmured. “I don’t know.” 

“I’m gonna keep living.” Atsumu said, as if he was trying to convince himself. “I don’t believe in that superstition bullshit. It’s just-it’s nothing. We’re gonna be okay, Omi. I promise.”

The rain still fell, and the first crack of thunder echoed across the dormant city.

It was almost as loud as his heart breaking. 

-

When Kiyoomi woke up the next morning, everything seemed to be alright. The morning was beautiful, the aftermath of the storm having long since passed in the night. He peeled his eyes open, staring blankly at the window.

The events of last night came rushing back, as if a floodgate had been released in his mind. The dancing, the euphoria, the happiness, the—

_ “I love you, Omi.”  _ Kiyoomi’s breath caught in his throat again. He twisted in the bed, slightly disoriented. Atsumu was sleeping soundly next to him, his chest rising and falling evenly. He rolled over and collided with Kiyoomi, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around him. 

The world was starting to break beneath his fingers. Kiyoomi could try and hold it together, but it would crumble all the same. He rested his head on Atsumu’s.

“Love, I think we have practice this morning.” Atsumu mumbled suddenly, startling Kiyoomi. He sighed, gently burying his hand in his hair. 

“Argh… do we have to go?” He complained softly. “I’m comfortable.”

“So am I, but we hafta keep trainin’ so we can kick the Adler’s asses next week.” Atsumu retorted. Kiyoomi stiffened slightly at the mention of next week.  _ Next week, next week.  _

Atsumu would not be alive for the game. 

Kiyoomi shoved the thought of his mind. He was okay. He wasn’t acting different; and when he looked into Atsumu’s eyes, they were still bright and shining with life. 

He yelped as the setter wiggled out of his arms, sitting up on the bed and stretching. “Come on, Omi.” Atsumu poked his side. “We have to get ready for practice.” 

“No… too early…” Kiyoomi pressed his face into his pillow. Atsumu laughed again, and Kiyoomi felt him press a kiss to his cheek.

“C’mon Omi. Ya know yer gonna have fun once we get there.” He sighed and rolled off of the bed. Atsumu beamed at him, before scampering off to the bathroom. Kiyoomi watched him, his knuckles slightly white.

He knew about the curse. How was he so unbothered? He had nearly broken down yesterday, and yet he was skipping along as if nothing was the matter. Kiyoomi didn't understand.

But he didn’t want Atsumu to be upset. Not when he was dying. 

Kiyoomi changed quickly, lost in his thoughts and worries. He wrung his hands together, stretching his wrists as he waited for Atsumu to finish styling his hair. He laughed softly to himself. Some things never changed.

Atsumu reappeared after a few minutes, his volleyball bag slung over his shoulder. He nudged Kiyoomi, handing him his mask.

“Ya forgot this.” Kiyoomi blinked.

“Thanks.” He mumbled. 

“Never thought that  _ the  _ Sakusa Kiyoomi would forget his mask. Are ya alright?” Atsumu narrowed his eyes, examining him closely. 

“I’m just worried.” Kiyoomi admitted with a sigh. The setter pursed his lips. 

“So am I, but that won’t change shit, will it?” Atsumu said. Kiyoomi opened his mouth, only for his boyfriend to cut him off. “No, it won’t. If-if the- the  _ thing _ is real, I wanna live my last days to its fullest. So let’s go to practice and have fun.” 

Kiyoomi stared at him, slightly dumbfounded. Atsumu had one of his hands on his hip, and was looking at him impatiently. As if this was a trivial subject, not the notion that he was dying. 

“How are you not afraid?” He managed to ask.

“I’m terrified.” Atsumu replied with a shrug. “But for all we know, this isn’t real. Just a coincidence. Say it with me.” 

“Just a coincidence.” Kiyoomi said faintly. “Right.”

“Good. Now let’s go to practice. I heard Bokkun was bringing in lunch for the team.” Atsumu coughed slightly, but shook it off, still walking. Kiyoomi pulled his mask on, and followed him. He shut the apartment door behind them, locking it.

Coincidence. 

God, he hoped. 

-

Traffic was a bitch. They ended up arriving at the gym late, causing them to sprint to the locker room. Kiyoomi hoped they could salvage some sort of graceful entrance. The team was well aware of the relationship him and Atsumu had, and made sure to make fun of them whenever they got the chance. Inunaki was the worst, the libero taking every opportunity to tease them.

“The lovebirds are finally here!” Inunaki drawled loudly as Kiyoomi stepped into the gym with Atsumu in tow. “Guess you two got a little—“

“Finish that sentence and you won’t walk out of here alive.” Kiyoomi said sullenly. Atsumu snickered, throwing his arms around his shoulders. 

“Now, now Omi. It’s okay.” He said, still beaming. Kiyoomi sighed, gently prying Atsumu’s arms off of his shoulders. 

“Right. I thought we were here to play volleyball, not discuss lovelives.” 

“Why not do both?” Inunaki challenged. “There’s always so much drama with you youngins. Romance, cross team relationships, and horny—“

“ _ Inunaki _ .” Meian said sternly from the corner in which he was warming up. “Stop harassing Sakusa and Miya.” Inuanki’s face turned slightly red, and he backed away, muttering a hurried apology. Kiyoomi cracked a small smile, while Atsumu full-on cackled. Leave it to the captain to scare the libero into backing down. 

Kiyoomi and Atsumu stretched together, a comfortable silence over the two, save for a few small coughs from Atsumu. Kiyoomi would have liked to freeze time. To stop the clock, and the two could spend forever just  _ together _ . Then the curse wouldn’t be hanging over their head, then they could be happy.

Then Atsumu saying “I love you” wouldn’t destroy their little home. 

“Okay team!” Meian clapped his hands. Kiyoomi tugged the setter to his feet and they jogged over to the captain. “Coach is absent today, said he had some family matter to take care of. So I thought we could just play each other for today, just for practice.”

The team chorused their agreement. Meian organized them quickly, directing each person to a different side. Kiyoomi ended up across from Atsumu and Bokuto. Hinata and the grey haired spiker seemed to be engaged in a silent taunt, the two aggressively staring each other down. 

“I’m gonna win, Omi.” Atsumu said with a grin. He cleared his throat, shaking his head slightly. “And yer gonna be the one ta cook dinner tonight. Once I win.” 

“I would be cooking either way.” Kiyoomi pointed out. “You have many talents, love, but cooking isn’t one of them.” Atsumu stuck his tongue out. Before he could retort, Barnes, who had graciously agreed to referee the first set, blew the whistle. 

Meian was first to serve, and the game was kicked into gear. 

The game progressed smoothly, the score irritatingly close. Neither side could get a strong lead over each other; Kiyoomi supposed it was a testament to their skills, but damn he wanted to win. He slammed the ball down, flicking his wrist with as much force as he could muster. He narrowed his eyes as it was saved, bracing himself to spike again.

Atsumu coughed, shaking his head as he lifted his arms for the set. He looked tired, in such stark contrast to his earlier appearance it made Kiyoomi pause. He opened his mouth to say something, knowing full well he would throw the point if he had to. Atsumu looked on the verge of collapse, and if they didn’t stop soon—

Kiyoomi watched it happen in slow motion. Atsumu’s hands collided with the ball, and as he hit it up, he stumbled backward. He started coughing violently, his legs shaking and buckling under the strain. He hit the ground hard. 

Kiyoomi didn’t bother waiting for someone to call a timeout. He was already ducking under the net and sprinting to his fallen boyfriend, who was still hacking up a lung. 

Kiyoomi was shell-shocked, watching the scene unfurl. His placed his hands on his back, trying his best to comfort Atsumu as he struggled to breathe. His heart was pounding and blood roared in his ears. 

This was it, the beginning of the end— 

He cut his thoughts off. Kiyoomi could not afford to spiral, not yet.

“Woah, Tsum-tsum! Are you okay?” Bokuto’s voice broke the haze, his brilliant yellow eyes scrutinized Atsumu, who was still bent over in the court. His shoulders shook as he coughed, violent convulsions wracking his body. Kiyoomi was frozen, his extremities going numb.

_ It’s just a cold.  _

He stayed right next to the setter, who had started to recover. His eyes were glazed with pain, but a smile was still strung across his face. Kiyoomi slipped one arm under Atsumu’s shoulder and helped him stand. He guided him to the bench. 

He helped him sit down. Atsumu crumpled onto the bench, his face slightly relieved. His breathing was heavy, another small cough escaping him. Kiyoomi grabbed his water bottle and handed it to him, watching as he eagerly drank as much as he could.

“Slow down, you’re gonna make yourself sick.” Kiyoomi chided. Atsumu rolled his eyes, but paused and took a deep breath. 

“My throat hurts.” He complained. “Feels like someone is rubbing sandpaper down it.” 

“Probably just a cold.” Kiyoomi said quickly. Atsumu stared at him hopefully. The unspoken secret, the curse that was in the back of both of their minds. 

“You think so?” He whispered. 

_ No.  _ “Yeah.” Kiyoomi replied, the lie slipping out easily. Atsumu nodded, before breaking into another coughing fit.

“You should head home, Atsumu.” Meian said, crossing his arms. The setter jerked his head up and shook his head. 

“Wait, Cap, I can still play—“ He protested weakly. Kiyoomi shook his head, gently stepping behind him and rubbing his shoulders. 

“Atsumu.” He started slowly. “It’s for the best. You’ll be able to play faster if you get some rest.” 

“He’s right.” Meian said quickly. “It’s okay to take breaks.” 

“But—“

“No buts.” Kiyoomi said sternly. “I’m gonna take you home now, got it?” Atsumu sighed, throwing his head back dramatically. 

“Fine…” He grumbled. Kiyoomi helped Atsumu to his feet, grabbing his coat and handing it to him. He tugged it on without much fanfare, however the tips of his ears were pink with embarrassment as the team looked on. 

“Bye Tsum-Tsum! Feel better!” Bokuto called. The team chorused their agreement, all of them sounding cheerful. Hopeful.  _ What Kiyoomi didn't have.  _ Atsumu groaned and buried his face in Kiyoomi’s jacket. 

“Hide me.” He complained. Kiyoomi forced a smile on his face. 

“There, there.” He wrapped one arm around his shoulder and guided him to the gym doors. “I’ve gotcha.” 

“Don’t let me go.” Atsumu said quietly. 

“I won’t.” Kiyoomi promised, holding his shoulder tighter. The two walked to the car in silence, the setter still clinging on to his arm. Kiyoomi could feel the tremors running through his body. Atsumu coughed slightly, shaking his head.

“I fucking hate this.” He growled out. “Stupid cough.” 

“We’re gonna get you home, and I’ll get you soup and we can watch shitty romcoms for the rest of the night. How does that sound?” Kiyoomi said with a small smile. He pulled open the passenger side of the car and helped Atsumu step in before heading to the driver’s side.

“It sounds great.” Atsumu admitted begrudgingly. He pulled his seatbelt over his shoulder, clearing his throat. Kiyoomi started the car ignition.

A cold. That was all it was.

-

The pair arrived home without trouble. Atsumu was still able to walk on his own; a small relief. Kiyoomi matched his pace, pulling out the keys to their apartment quickly. The setter was silent, still fuming after being pulled out of practice. 

Atsumu beelined for the couch, flopping on it face-first with a dramatic sigh. Kiyoomi sat down next to him. He absent-mindedly stroked his hair, the blonde calming down under his touch. 

“What can I do for you?” He inquired after a few minutes of uninterrupted silence. Atsumu shifted slightly, his eyes glowing softly in the low lighting. Kiyoomi hadn’t turned the lights on, figuring he would prefer it if there was some semblance of darkness. He knew that he hated it when it was too bright when he was sick, and Atsumu was usually the same way. 

“Hungry.” Atsumu mumbled, before pressing his face back into the couch. Kiyoomi nodded, standing up and walking to the kitchen. 

“Does your stomach hurt?” He called.

“No. I said I was hungry.” Atsumu refuted.

“You can be hungry and have a stomach bug.” Kiyoomi said dryly. “Happens to everyone.” 

“Hnrg.” His boyfriend mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow. Kiyoomi laughed quietly. If the circumstances weren’t so dire, he would find his sudden shift hilarious. He grabbed a can of soup from the cabinet and heated it up, watching the microwave spin. 

He got lost in thought, watching the microwave spin. Round and round, in an infinite loop. Until it inevitably was disrupted by the timer, stopped in its tracks. His life was rather like that. Everything was okay until he turned 10, and then it all collapsed. Tragedy after tragedy, death after death. 

But he would keep moving.

That’s what he did. Kiyoomi, the survivor. Kiyoomi, the heartbroken. 

The microwave went off and he jumped. He pulled the soup out of the machine and poured it into a bowl. The aroma of the chicken noodle filled the apartment. He placed the bowl on a tray and carried it over to Atsumu, who had pushed himself into a sitting position. 

“You should probably shower.” Kiyoomi whispered into his ear as he set the tray on the coffee table. Atsumu made a face, but nodded. 

“After I eat.” He conceded. Kiyoomi hopped up and grabbed a cup of water and placed it in front of Atsumu. He kissed his cheek one more time, then stood up. 

“I’m gonna go shower, I’ll be right back.” Kiyoomi whispered. Atsumu nodded. 

“I’ll be fine, Omi. Don’t worry about me.” He said with a smile. Kiyoomi nodded and walked to the bathroom, turning on the shower. He watched the water flow, each droplet memorizing. 

The shower did nothing to ease his thoughts. It only gave him time to think about what the future held, and how he was going to lose it all—

He took a deep breath and shut the water off. Kiyoomi shook his head.  _ The second day.  _ He wanted every second to count.

_ Please let it be just a cold.  _

Atsumu had finished his soup and was waiting by the shower, leaning against the door. He jumped and pressed a sudden kiss to Kiyoomi’s face when he opened the bathroom door. He yelped softly, but leaned into the touch. 

“Love—“ 

Kiyoomi kissed him again before he could finish that statement. Even if it was too late, he still didn’t want to hear it. Not yet, not when the clock was running. 

“Enjoy your shower.” Kiyoomi parted from him, stepping out of the way. “I’ll find a movie for us to watch, okay?” 

“Okay!” Atsumu chirped, before bounding into the bathroom. Kiyoomi’s gaze lingered on his back, taking a deep breath and turning away. He pulled on a lounge shirt and sweats, setting out some clothes for Atsumu too. 

He grabbed some extra blankets and pillows and arranged them in a nice position. Kiyoomi rubbed the back of his head, setting the remote out. He grabbed the dirty dishes and washed them, setting them into the dishwasher. 

Atsumu reappeared ten minutes later, bundled up in the clothes he had set out, along with one of Kiyoomi’s sweatshirts. “15” was engraved across it, the gold patterning across the fabric. Kiyoomi smiled as Atsumu sat down next to him. He curled up next to him. As he laid on the couch, he let out a cough. He reached for his water and chugged it, shaking his head. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled, his ears red. 

“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault you’re sick.” Kiyoomi murmured, rubbing his back. He grabbed the remote and clicked the TV on. He switched it to the movie he had selected, and reclined on the couch. Atsumu rested his head on his shoulder with a yawn. 

A half hour into the movie, he was sound asleep. Kiyoomi shifted his gaze to his boyfriend. 

“ _ This isn’t fair _ .” Kiyoomi wanted to say. Atsumu was sleeping soundly, the only noise coming out of him being a feeble cough every few minutes. His breathing was still even; nothing like the ragged messes the  _ others _ were like as the week progressed. Kiyoomi’s throat tightened. He couldn’t see Atsumu like that. 

He hugged the blonde closer, shutting his eyes and burying his face in his hair. He wanted to memorize every part of him, before he was gone. 

Kiyoomi could feel slow tears trickling down his face. This was his fault, his fault that Atsumu would keep getting sicker and sicker until his heart finally stopped beating and he  _ died _ . It was his fault that his life was being cut short.

He held onto Atsumu tighter, afraid that if he let go, he would dissolve like sand between his fingers. Kiyoomi pressed a kiss to his forehead, taking in a shuddering breath. 

“Please, have mercy.” He whispered quietly. “Please don’t take him from me.” 

Shinsuke Kita once said there were gods. That there were forces working that were beyond any of their comprehensions. The rest of the group laughed it off, but Kiyoomi remained silent. *Because he was right.* And now he was begging for mercy, for Atsumu’s life. 

The gods were silent. The only response was another hacking cough from Atsumu, and the quiet sob that escaped Kiyoomi.

-

Atsumu was running a fever when he woke up the next morning. It wasn’t high, but it scared Kiyoomi all the same.

Atsumu broke into coughing fits every few minutes. Each sound ripped his heart to shreds. It hurt to hear him suffering like this. 

_ Why couldn’t he have listened to me?  _

_ Why did he say those words?  _

Despite Kiyoomi’s protests, he did not stay in bed for the day. He walked aimlessly around the apartment, insisting that there was something to do (even when Kiyoomi said there wasn’t). It was frustrating. 

Deep down, he knew that no matter what Atsumu did or didn’t do, no differences would be made. He would die in four days, and Kiyoomi would be powerless to stop it.

The reoccurring thought made him drop the dish he was washing. It shattered against the ground with a deafening crash. He pressed one hand to his mouth to blanket the sob that worked its way free. The sink water was still running, muffling some of the noise.

“Omi?” Atsumu stuck his head out from behind the corner. “Is everything okay?” Kiyoomi turned slightly, catching him out of the corner of his eye. He wiped the tears away, but no matter how hard he tried, no smile would cross his face. 

“I’m just worried.” He said finally. “I’m scared, Atsumu.” 

“Why? It’s-it’s just a cold, right?” Atsumu stammered slightly. “I’m gonna be fine. Like ya said, the curse- the curse probably isn’t real…”

“How did you get sick this fast, then?” Kiyoomi turned suddenly. His fists were clenched as he started shaking, the gravity of the situation sending him spiraling. “How do you keep deteriorating—“ 

“Omi, stop.” Atsumu stepped closer, sweeping aside the broken dish with his foot. “Don’t do that. Don’t. Yer gonna make me more scared.” Kiyoomi lifted his hands and gently cupped Atsumu’s face. His eyes were pleading, his brown orbs shining in the kitchen light. There was a glimmer of sadness present; Kiyoomi wished he could pluck the fear and hurt away, and promise him that life would be okay. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” Is all he managed. Atsumu leaned into his touch, closing his eyes. Kiyoomi kissed him, bringing their foreheads together. “I love you.” 

“I love—you know.” Atsumu cut himself off. “Sorry.” He murmured. 

“I think… I think you can say it now, if you want.” Kiyoomi whispered. He didn’t know if it would make the situation worse; hell, he didn’t know if that was possible. But the selfish part of him wanted to hear Atsumu say the words, the words he could never hear. 

“I love ya too, Omi.” Atsumu said finally. A small smile played his lips. “I love ya to the moon and back.” 

Kiyoomi hugged him tightly, and Atsumu hugged him back. The water was still running and the dish was still broken. But that could wait. 

All they had left was borrowed time. 

Kiyoomi took a deep breath, pulling back gently. Atsumu stayed glued to his side, his expression hollow. His body was shaking slightly. 

“Atsumu.” He said gently. “Come on, you should go to bed.” 

“I don’t wanna.” Atsumu pouted, crossing his arms. “I’m not—I’m not tired—“ He started to say, only to break off into a yawn. Kiyoomi snickered slightly.

“Right. You aren’t tired at all.” He said. “But if you don’t go to sleep, I’ll carry you in and lock the door.” 

“Fine, fine, I’m going.” Atsumu scrambled to his feet, stumbling toward the bedroom. Kiyoomi followed him, glancing down at the broken dish. He could clean it later. 

Atsumu flopped onto the bed instantly, hugging his pillow. Kiyoomi flipped on one of the lamps, walking over. He shut the blinds, closing out the sun. He checked the room, making sure everything was in place. Water, books, and blankets. Everything was good.

Kiyoomi walked over and pulled the sheets over Atsumu. Already he was drifting off, yawning again. His brown eyes were misting over. He locked gazes with Kiyoomi, his brow furrowing thoughtfully. 

“I didn’t wanna believe in that curse.” Atsumu mumbled, closing his eyes slightly as he sighed. “I didn’t wanna believe in gods and spirits and all the shit Shinsuke would always go on about.” 

“I know.” Kiyoomi said quietly. “I know.” 

“I’m really scared.” Atsumu admitted finally. Kiyoomi thought back to yesterday, where he said  _ it would all be fine _ . “I don’t wanna die.” 

“You won’t, I won’t let you.” Kiyoomi forced the words out, his voice cracking. “It’s—“ 

“It’s not okay.” Atsumu murmured. “It’s not okay, and I’m— I—“ He started coughing again, curling in on himself slightly. Kiyoomi grabbed the cup of water off of the night stand and handed it to him. Atsumu accepted it, his hacking subsiding as he downed the water. 

“I’m so sorry, baby.” Kiyoomi said, sitting down on the bed next to him. Atsumu fell into his arms. The setter’s breathing was still ragged, but he wasn’t coughing anymore. A small victory, Kiyoomi supposed. 

“I was gonna propose today.” Atsumu said suddenly. Kiyoomi’s breath caught in his throat as he gazed down at the setter. His eyes were misted over, lost in thought. “I had the ring picked out and everything. I was gonna take ya ta dinner and then we would go to the hill overlooking the gym, and I would ask ya ta marry me.” 

“I will marry you.” Kiyoomi responded instantly. “I will marry you, Atsumu.” 

“Huh?” Atsumu looked at him, confused. “But— I didn’t—“ 

“I would have said yes. I will always say yes.” Kiyoomi vowed, pressing their foreheads together. “You’re my sun and stars, Atsumu.”

“Yer my galaxy.” Atsumu shot back. “And I would take yer last name in a heartbeat.” 

“Not if I took yours first.” Kiyoomi laughed wetly, holding back tears. The setter hummed, murmuring something along the lines of “rock paper scissors” before burying his face in his pillow. 

Atsumu fell asleep quickly, his fatigue overtaking him. Kiyoomi watched him, and once he was sure he was unconscious, he let himself sob once more. 

-

Kiyoomi woke up before Atsumu. That scared him. Atsumu was a morning person, and to see him sleeping this late made him uneasy. 

“Fuck…” Atsumu groaned suddenly. “Overslept. Gotta-gotta go to pra—“ He broke off as he started coughing, curling in on himself in the bed. Kiyoomi sat up sharply. 

“We’re not going anywhere.” Kiyoomi said sternly. He grabbed the water glass off of the nightstand. He handed it to Atsumu, who ended up spilling most of it over himself. Kiyoomi watched him, his mouth dry. After Atsumu recovered, he shook his head, rolling over to face Kiyoomi. 

“Yer going to practice.” He said firmly. Kiyoomi blinked at him. 

“What?” 

“Yer going to practice.” He repeated. “I can take care of myself, Omi. Ya should go keep playin’.” 

“But what if—“ Kiyoomi started. 

“Omi.” Atsumu said. “I’ll be okay.”  _ No you won’t.  _ Kiyoomi pursed his lips, sighing. 

“Fine.” He agreed sullenly. “Call me if you need  _ anything.  _ Stay in bed, watch a movie, and  _ no working.  _ Do you understand?” 

“Yes, baby.” Atsumu drew him closer and kissed him. “Now go kick ass for me.” Kiyoomi slid out of bed, kissing his boyfriend’s forehead one more time before grabbing his gym clothes. 

The drive to practice was too quiet without Atsumu. It was lonely without him jabbering in his ear. He pulled into the parking lot and headed in, his chest feeling knotted and heavy. 

“Sakusa-kun!” Bokuto was the first to notice him, shouting happily. The rest of the team greeted him. Kiyoomi bowed his head, trying to force a smile on his face. 

“Is Atsumu-san better?” Hinata inquired, tilting his head. Kiyoomi’s breath hitched. The team was staring at him expectantly. They probably thought he was going to say yes, that everything was fine and he would be back next week in time for the game. That life would be normal after this little cold.

_ Not a cold, not a cold.  _

“No.” He murmured. “But hopefully soon.” The rest of the team quieted down, their faces falling. 

“Our thoughts are with you and him, Sakusa.” Meian said. “Are you sure you don’t want to go home?” Kiyoomi bit his lip. He locked eyes with the captain, who’s expression was unreadable. He took in a shuddering breath. 

“I’m sorry, Meian-san, and to the rest of you all, but Atsumu needs me more than the team does.” He whispered. “I’m really scared for him.” 

“We understand, Sakusa-kun.” Bokuto said, his temperament dying down. He looked solemn, his eyes flashing. “If you need anything, just call one of us, okay? We’re here for both of you.”

“I appreciate it.” Kiyoomi said. He turned to the door and bolted out, fumbling for his car keys. He turned on the ignition and pulled out, trying to keep his breathing even. The drive back was even slower than the one to get to gym. 

He flung the door to his apartment, stepping inside. There was a crash in the kitchen, followed by a loud obscenity. Kiyoomi jogged into the kitchen, dropping his back down in the main room. 

“Atsumu.” He said, slightly irritated. “What are you doing up?” The setter blinked at him, holding a bag of saltine crackers. Atsumu glanced at the sleeve and back at Kiyoomi. 

“Getting food?” 

“I knew I should’ve stayed home.” Kiyoomi said with a sigh. 

“I’m fine! Look, I can walk, can’t I? Also, what are you doing back? Don’t you have practice?” Atsumu said quickly, tilting his head slightly.

“I’m not going to practice when you're this sick.” Kiyoomi deadpanned. 

“Yeah, well—“ Atsumu began. He lurched forward suddenly, falling into the island. He clutched it with an iron grip, a trembling cough escaping him. 

“Atsumu, are you feeling okay?” Kiyoomi asked, trying to force his heart rate to decrease. His boyfriend was leaning over the counter, his hair damp with sweat. At Kiyoomi’s voice, he straightened up and turned to him, the same dazzling smile crossing his face. 

“Just fine, Omi—“ Atsumu started to say, before breaking into a coughing fit. Kiyoomi rushed to his side, his hands trembling as Atsumu waved him off. 

“Atsu—“ 

“I’m f-fine.” The blonde straightened up, clearing his throat. His brown eyes were bloodshot, dark shadows under his eyes. Sakusa had felt his restlessness last night; but it had clearly been worse than he imagined. 

“You’re not fine.” Kiyoomi’s voice dropped. He glanced at the calendar. The fourth day. Three days left, Atsumu would be dead in  _ three days— _

He shook it off. It could just be a cold. The curse might not be real, it was just his imagination. Everything was a coincidence.  _ That was it _ .

It was funny how long he could live in denial for, after every other death he saw. After every loss he caused, he still found it in him to deny what his life was.

Cursed. 

“Come on.” Kiyoomi suddenly picked him up, sweeping Atsumu’s legs up and carrying him to the couch. Atsumu didn’t protest, instead burying his head in the crook of Kiyoomi’s neck. He let out another trembling cough, his body shaking. 

Kiyoomi was shocked he couldn’t hear his heart breaking once more.

Then again, it had shattered so many times this week there was nothing left to break. 

-

Atsumu slept most of the day. He didn’t stir once, not even to eat or get water. 

Kiyoomi was losing hope. 

-

Kiyoomi didn’t sleep that night. He watched the sun come up from behind the curtains, the brilliant orange backlighting fading to a gentle yellow. 

It was well into mid-morning when Atsumu woke up. He twitched slightly, barely reacting when Kiyoomi nudged his arm. 

“Morning, love.” He whispered. All he got in response with a small sob. “Atsumu?” Kiyoomi’s voice turned concerned immediately. He sat up, peering over at his boyfriend. 

Atsumu was crying, his sobs muffled by the pillow. He was gasping for air, but it was so quiet Kiyoomi missed it. Guilt wormed its way into his gut. He leaned over and gently tugged him away from the pillow. 

“Baby, talk to me.” Kiyoomi murmured softly. “I’m right here.” Atsumu sniffed again. Kiyoomi grabbed the tissues and handed them to him. He patiently waited for the sobs to subside. Atsumu took a shuddering breath. 

“I—“ he started to say. He choked slightly and began to cough. It sounded worse than the day before, as if his lungs were full of liquid that refused to leave. Kiyoomi rubbed his back, tracing small circles. 

“I’ve got you.” He murmured. If Atsumu heard him, he didn’t respond. He was gasping for air, more tears springing in the corners of his eyes and cascading down his face. 

It took five minutes for the fit to pass. The blonde breathed deeply, panting. He tended at very sharp breath, as if he was waiting for the hacking to start again.

“It’s killing me to see you this way.” Kiyoomi whispered, preemptive grief hitting him sharply. Atsumu leaned into him, his eyes vacant. 

“I don’t- I don’t wanna leave you—“ Atsumu started to say, before breaking off in another coughing fit, clinging on to Kiyoomi’s shirt. His face was still streaked with tears, his eyes red from all of his crying. Kiyoomi was crying silently too, his hands shaking as he held onto Atsumu. 

“Please don’t go.” He begged quietly. “I don’t want to lose you.”  _ It’s my fault he’s going in the first place.  _

“I don’t think I can-I can hold on.” Atsumu choked out. He buried his face in the crook of Kiyoomi’s neck. Kiyoomi didn’t know what to say, and didn't know how to comfort him. 

Part of him wished they had never met. Atsumu would have found someone else, someone who wouldn’t be the death of him. Someone he could say “I love you” to without fear of dying. Perhaps it would be better that way, if they had never fallen in love. 

“Do you regret loving me?” He whispered, laying his head on top of his. “I wouldn’t blame you.” Silence met his words, the setter stiffening in his arms. Kiyoomi wished he could take back the question. It was stupid, after all; who wouldn’t regret falling in love with someone who would only ever result in death? 

“I don’t.” Atsumu responded slowly. “Loving ya was the-the best thing that ever happened ta me.”

“I lost the game. I tried to stop this from happening, I swear—“ 

“It was game no-no one w-would win.” Atsumu whispered. “I don’t wanna die, but I wouldn’t trade ya for anything. I love ya, Omi.” He smiled sadly as he uttered the last words. “I love ya so much it hurts. Ya made me so happy, and I wouldn’t give it up. If- when I die, at least I’ll go a happy man.” 

Kiyoomi cried harder, kissing him, wishing he could have been normal, wishing he could spend every minute for a hundred years with him. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair he was being ripped away from the world.

He could wish upon every star, but they were as silent as the gods. Cruel and heartless, all they did was watch the world burn. 

The day passed silently. Kiyoomi knew what was coming tomorrow. He was scared out of his mind. Atsumu barely spoke, and when he did, it ended in more coughing. 

Kiyoomi and Atsumu fell asleep that night holding each other tightly, both of them repeating those same words of “I love you” over and over again. 

It was the only thing they could do, he supposed. Their time was almost all the way gone, and he wanted to hold onto Atsumu’s love a little longer. 

-

Atsumu was leaning heavily against the granite island when Kiyoomi got up, his eyes bloodshot and glazed over. Another cough fit wracked his body, causing him to double over. Kiyoomi stared at him, fear blooming in his chest. 

It was the seventh day. 

He walked over quickly, hesitantly laying his hands on Atsumu’s back as he continued to cough, his body trembling. He felt the blonde twist and grab his arms for support, righting himself. A forced smile crossed his face, causing Kiyoomi’s heart to thud painfully in his chest. 

“H-hey Omi.” Atsumu managed to say. 

“You should be resting.” Kiyoomi said immediately, guiding him toward the couch. Atsumu didn’t protest, instead letting himself be laid down. Kiyoomi grabbed the olive green blanket hanging off the armrest of the furniture and gently placed it on top of him. 

“Th-tha-“ Atsumu broke off as another bout of coughing started. 

“Don’t speak, okay?” Kiyoomi said quietly, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. “Just rest, that’s what you need to do. You’ll-you’ll be okay.” 

Centuries of death had turned him into quite the liar.

“No I w-won’t.” Atsumu retorted. “Ya-ya and I-I b-both know t-that yer curse is-is real.”

“Yeah.” Kiyoomi murmured. “It is.” People liked to think that history had no effect on the present day. That the past belonged there, and it couldn’t damage the future.

Kiyoomi would call them idiots. 

It had been disproven so many times, it was unbearable. The ignorance of one, the lessons not learned, can lead to horrible consequences. And sometimes the supernatural, long forgotten, was still real. Kiyoomi wondered how many were cursed like him. Their soul having done something wrong eons ago, and the price still being repaid. 

“I’m gonna die today, aren’t I?” Atsumu said hoarsely. He was the price. He was the one suffering for the sins that he had nothing to do with. Kiyoomi didn’t respond to his question. He gently grasped him and held him tight. 

“Love, you’re burning up.” Kiyoomi gently guided him to the couch. “I’ll get some medicine, okay?” Atsumu nodded, stumbling the rest of the way to the sofa. Kiyoomi made sure he settled down before going to the medicine cabinet. He pulled out the fever suppressants, grabbing a washcloth on his way out. His doused it in cool water and jogged back over to his boyfriend. 

“Atsumu, please, stay awake.” Kiyoomi said softly as he arrived, gently placing a cool cloth on his boyfriend’s forehead. Atsumu barely reacted, his eyes fluttering shut. He let out another cough, sitting up suddenly a violent hacking fit wracking his body. Kiyoomi waited for it to pass, fear seizing him as he watched. 

“ _ You’ll never fall in love, and those who dare to do so will suffer for seven sunrises before journeying to the afterlife. _ ” Kiyoomi’s mouth was dry as he clutched Atsumu’s hand. The coughing finally seized, and his boyfriend slumped down against the pillows. Pain glazed his eyes. 

“I-it h-hurts.” Atsumu choked out, his knuckles white as he clenched his fists. Sweat beaded his forehead as tears formed in the corner of his eyes. Kiyoomi could feel his heart breaking, his own eyes watering. He raised Atsumu’s hand to his lip and kissed it, trying to keep his panic at bay. 

The setter sat up sharply as more coughing plagued his body. He gasped for air, his grip iron in Kiyoomi’s. Kiyoomi could only watch as he fought to hang on, as he fought to  _ live _ . 

“Atsumu, you need to rest.” Kiyoomi said, not unkindly. “Stop trying to sit up.”

“But—“ Atsumu protested weakly. Kiyoomi gently pushed him back down, his hand not leaving Atsumu’s grip. The setter sighed, his weary eyes still locked with Kiyoomi’s.

The life was all but gone from them. The spark has been extinguished, the ember put out by the pain. Kiyoomi forced himself to stay strong, no matter how badly he wanted to break down.  _ For Atsumu.  _

“No.” Kiyoomi said sternly, shocked his voice didn’t crack. “Atsumu, please just... don’t move. I’ll put on a movie and we can watch it together, okay?” The blonde nodded, his gaze unfocused. Kiyoomi moved back slightly as he shook again. 

“‘M cold.” He mumbled, his voice hoarse. 

“I know, love.” Kiyoomi said quietly. “I’m sorry.”  _ I’m sorry you fell in love with me. I’m sorry that you’re dying because of me. I’m sorry for loving you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. _

“I wanna take a nap.” Atsumu’s voice was trembling, cracking slightly as he fought back a cough. Kiyoomi stiffened. If Atsumu fell asleep, he feared he wouldn’t wake up again. 

He bit his lip, unsure of how to respond. Kiyoomi could feel sweat beading his forehead, the little drops trickling down his face. He was scared, he couldn’t lose Atsumu. 

“Can-can you come s-sit with me?” Atsumu stumbled over his words, blinking hopefully up at Kiyoomi. He nodded, fighting back tears. He glanced out the window. 

The sun was sinking faster, the sky starting to turn a pale orange. His breath hitched. Sunset was upon them. 

He had maybe two hours left. 

Kiyoomi walked over to the couch and laid down next to Atsumu. The setter immediately curled into his arms, his head resting on Kiyoomi’s chest. He almost flinched at the heat radiating off of him. The fever had only gotten worse. 

He stroked his hair, watching as Atsumu twitched in his sleep. He had dropped into it quickly, his eyes shutting and his breathing evening out. Kiyoomi just hoped he could wake him up again, that the day would pass and  _ everything would be okay. _

Kiyoomi didn’t know when he started crying. Silent tears trickled down his face as he clutched Atsumu close, doing his best to keep his sobs quiet. He pressed his face into his hair, breathing in his boyfriend’s scent. Atsumu didn’t react. 

“I love you, Atsumu.” He whispered. “Please don’t leave me.”

Silence met his words. He inhaled sharply.  _ No.  _

“Atsu.” Kiyoomi said, pulling away from him. There was no response, his boyfriend’s eyes half-closed, a small trail of blood running down his mouth. “Atsumu, please.” 

There was no reply. Atsumu was limp in his arms, his own loosely grasping Kiyoomi’s shoulders. He could barely feel him breathing. Kiyoomi stood up, gently laying Atsumu’s head against the pillows. He hastily pulled out his phone. 

“119, how may we assist?” An even voice said. Kiyoomi took a deep breath. Deep down, he already knew the truth, that Atsumu was gone. But he had to try, had to see if someone could beat death and bring him back. 

“M-my boyfriend, he’s sick, really sick, and he w-won’t wake up.” He stuttered, his panic seeping through into the voice. The responder asked him a few more questions, each one harder to answer then the last.  _ Where are you, is he breathing, how long has he been sick…  _

“I understand, responders are on the way.” The voice said. Kiyoomi hung up quickly, unable to stand it a second longer and stumbled back over to Atsumu’s side. He grabbed his hand, numbly waiting for the medical personnel to arrive. 

” _ Those who dare love you will die. _ ” Kiyoomi bit back a sob. It wasn’t fair; it had been a thousand years ago, and yet he was still being punished. Life time after life time he lost everyone he loved. Kiyoomi glanced at Atsumu, watching his chest rise and fall, every breath shorter and shorter. Kiyoomi could feel tears dripping down his face, pooling on the floor. A testimony to his pain. 

He couldn’t do this much longer. 

“Atsumu, please, don’t do this, don’t die.” Kiyoomi begged him softly. He pressed his finger to the side of his neck. Atsumu’s pulse was weak, fluttering slightly. 

Hope. He had a little hope. Maybe he could be saved, maybe he would live. Kiyoomi kissed his forehead. “Keep fighting for me, I’m begging you.” 

The EMT arrived minutes later, the stretcher prepared. Kiyoomi could only watch as they loaded Atsumu onto it, already shouting orders to each other. Kiyoomi followed them into the ambulance, taking his seat across from the medical professionals.

The ride was agonizing. Time crawled by, each minute dragging on further than the last. An oxygen mask had been placed over Atsumu’s mouth. It was still fogging with air, a small sign that he was still alive. The traitorous ember of hope was still in Kiyoomi’s chest. 

He wanted it gone. He knew how the story would end, and he had no reason to believe that this time would be any different.  _ Because it wouldn’t.  _

Kiyoomi continued to follow the emergency responders as they rushed Atsumu to urgent care. He stood numbly in the back of the room, his eyes darting from each doctor. They were working as hard as they could, hooking Atsumu up to machines and IVs. The things that could save him. 

The hope burned brighter. 

Kiyoomi watched them work, their hurried steps and quick commands. He rubbed his forehead. He faintly wondered if he should have texted someone, like Osamu or Bokuto or Hinata, telling them what was happening. It had happened too fast. He thought he had a few more hours, a little more  _ time.  _

It was all gone now. 

Kiyoomi stared at Atsumu’s unmoving form. He wanted to beg him to wake up and fight. Yet he knew it would be useless. 

It didn’t stop the hope from spreading. He was still alive, still breathing, that had to count for  _ something—  _

The sun dipped below the towers. Kiyoomi snapped his head to the window. He hadn’t even realized what time it was. The sun was setting. 

The sky turned orange and the heart monitor’s beeping slowed. 

A panic frenzy descended over the room. Kiyoomi pushed himself against the wall, watching helplessly as the doctors worked. Even the nurses looked helpless, exchanging glances. This wasn’t a trauma patient, someone who needed to be stitched up. Atsumu was being attacked from the inside, and it was already too late. 

The sun disappeared from his view, hidden behind a building. Kiyoomi turned to the heart monitor, his mouth dry. 

“No.” He managed out as the line turned solid and the noise was one block. 

The order to do CPR was given. The panic increased, the movements so rapid Kiyoomi could not track them with his eyes.

Kiyoomi could only watch as it failed. Tears burned at the edge of his vision. The head doctor finally sat back, shaking her head once.  _ No. No, please, no don’t do this, please— _

“Time of death, seven fifty-four, March thirteenth.” Kiyoomi dropped to his knees, his vision swimming. A dull ringing entered his ears, all other sounds blocked out. Atsumu was laying limply on a hospital bed, his eyes closed and chest still.

Someone was next to him, gently pulling him to his feet. The person was saying something Kiyoomi couldn’t understand. All he could see was Atsumu, Atsumu who was gone. 

“‘Tsumu...” He whispered, his voice cracking with grief. The person— a nurse, he decided—gently led him to one of the chairs outside of the room, sitting him down in it. They said something about shock and therapy, but Kiyoomi still couldn’t understand. 

_ Astumu, dead, Atsumu, gone _ .

Kiyoomi let out a choked sob, slumping back against the chair. The nurse took a step back. Kiyoomi could care less. 

“Atsumu..” He cried softly. “I’m sorry!” He could feel the tears running down his face, unceasing as his grief spilled out. 

He forced himself to stand up, stumbling back into the room. The doctors regard him with sympathy and pity. He was grateful they didn’t stop him when he collapsed on the bed, clutching Atsumu’s hand. 

“Wake up, wake up, please!” He begged, bringing his limp hand to his forehead. Kiyoomi hoped this was a dream. He would wake up in his house with Atsumu next to him, snoozing softly next to him. He would wake him up and remind him that they had practice, and he would pout and Kiyoomi would laugh and kiss him because Astumu was alive, he was still here, he wasn’t  _ gone— _

“Sir, we need to ask you to exit the room.” A nurse said quietly. “I’m sorry for your loss.” The words were mechanic, rehearsed. They’d probably said it hundreds of times to hundreds of grieving people. 

“Atsumu...I love you, please.” He tried one more time, forcing himself to look at his boyfriend’s relaxed form. 

There was no reaction, except for the flatline heart monitor, because no matter what he wanted, what he tried to believe, Atsumu was gone.

“Maybe tomorrow.” Kiyoomi said through a sob, his trembling hands releasing Atsumu’s hand one last time. Grief twisted his heart. He stared at Atsumu’s unmoving form one more time. He knelt down and brushed the hair out of his forehead and pressed a kiss to his it. He was already cold. “Maybe next lifetime.”

One of the nurses pulled him away, outside of the room. She brought him to a chair and sat him down. Kiyoomi didn’t even bother listening to what she had to say.  _ He lost.  _

Kiyoomi glanced outside. The sun had set, the orange rays casting an eerie glow over the city. The seventh sunset, as always. He stared at the skyline, his legs wobbling. Grief overcame him as he dropped to his knees, and he screamed. The tears flowed freely as sobs wracked his body. 

He had lost. Miya Atsumu was dead, all because he dared to love Sakusa Kiyoomi.

**Author's Note:**

> I uh yeah  
> Had this idea when I was running and bam now it's reality  
> Sakusa just wants love :(( 
> 
> Anyway this is a wrap on day three! Thank you all so much for the nice comments, I will be responding to them when I have some free time! 
> 
> Stay safe out there!


End file.
